


Prompt 147: “I Can Take Care of Myself Just Fine”

by jiichan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Cute, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, shy Otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 08:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15703944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiichan/pseuds/jiichan
Summary: Yuri injures his ankle at practice and is forced to take a rest week by Otabek. But Yuri doesn't want to be bored.





	Prompt 147: “I Can Take Care of Myself Just Fine”

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this one for a friend after they requested it on Tumblr. This one's definitely the closest to domestic-cute that I've written so far.  
> I guess Yuri would be 17-ish here. I usually age him up because I like the idea that he'll get taller than Otabek. But I also think it'd take a few years for these clueless boys to realize they're not just friends.

Cold air whipped at Yuri’s face as he wrapped his arms tighter around Otabek’s waist. He could hear the growl of the bike as they passed through the St. Petersburg streets. The solid shifts of Otabek’s back whenever he moved made Yuri’s face feel warm, even with the cold air. He was glad Otabek wouldn’t be able to look at him. They turned a corner on the bike and Yuri dipped his head down, closer to Otabek’s ear.

“Take a left up there and then just park someplace. I’ll be fine, just drop me off,” he said.

Otabek shrugged and kept the bike going.

When they got in front of the apartment building, Otabek got off his bike after Yuri, grabbing Yuri’s arm.

“You shouldn’t walk unaided. You really did a number back there on your ankle.” Otabek’s grip tightened and Yuri gave him a half-hearted glare.

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself, y’know? The building has a damn elevator.” Yuri’s lips pressed into a thin, agitated line. “Besides, you’re too short to be of much help.”

Otabek rolled his eyes.

“Sure, but I could carry you. You may be tall, but you’re light as a feather. I do squats heavier than you at the gym.” He turned around with his back to Yuri, holding his arms out with his palms turned back, wiggling his fingers as if to coax Yuri into accepting the piggy-back ride.

With a resigned sigh, Yuri put his arms around Otabek’s shoulders. He hopped up and awkwardly tried to get his legs around Otabek’s waist. Otabek hooked his hands under Yuri’s thighs. Yuri could feel his ankle throbbing and his whole left leg was tense.

“Second floor,” Yuri mumbled, and Otabek walked them to the elevator with careful steps.

When the elevator doors opened, Otabek quickly jabbed the button for the second floor. Yuri could feel Otabek’s back tensing. A smug smile crept onto his face as he pushed himself up at his thighs, digging them into Otabek’s hips. Teasing him was one way to ignore the ache.

“Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” He asked. He nipped at Otabek’s ear, letting out a huff of a laugh as his mouth stretched into a grin.

“Do that again and I’ll drop you,” Otabek said flatly, stepping out of the elevator. “It’s apartment two twenty-four, right?” He took a few steps to turn right, going down the exposed hall.

“Yeah. Lemme get my keys.” Yuri freed one of his arms from around Otabek’s neck and dug into his hoodie pocket, finding the keys. With a finger through the key ring, he dangled them in front of Otabek’s face. “Here.”

Once in front of Yuri’s apartment door, Otabek snagged the keys from him and unlocked the door, opening it and quickly heading inside.

“Okay, just set me on the couch or something,” Yuri said.

Otabek complied, eager to get rid of the extra weight. He practically dumped Yuri on the couch, who hit the cushions with a loud slump and a short, throaty yip of surprise.

“Jesus, Beka, be gentler with me,” Yuri spat as he adjusted himself on the couch, stretching his legs out over the opposite armrest as he leaned back against the plush arm of the couch. The couch was his grandfather’s, and when Yuri finally got his own place, Nikolai decided he’d give his grandson the brown couch. It was older – well-loved. Perfect for napping, among other things Yuri had found it to be of use for. Really, it was just his grandfather’s excuse to get a new couch.

“Yura, you’re fine,” Otabek said dismissively as he roamed the kitchen, pulling his jacket off and draping it over a chair. “Do you have anything like an ice bag or something? Y’know, those rubber ones you just dump ice into?”

“I think those are in my bathroom. Maybe under the sink? I dunno, haven’t used one in a while.”

“I’ll go look.” Otabek wandered into Yuri’s room and into the bathroom. Yuri could hear the fan turn on as Otabek turned the lights on in the bathroom. Potya shot out of the room, running past Yuri and over to the small laundry room connected to the kitchen.

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Glad to see you, too, Potya,” he mumbled as he tugged his hoodie off and let it drop onto the carpet. Leaning forward, he untied his shoes. A pained hiss slipped between his teeth while he undid the laces. Quickly pulling his shoes off, he let them fall to the floor, leaning back against the arm of the couch when Otabek returned, having unearthed one of the blue rubber ice bags.

“I’m surprised I found anything. You don’t seem like the type who even believes in rest days,” he said as he walked to the freezer.

The door opened with a dense crack and Otabek visibly shivered at the brief burst of cold air from the freezer. He took out the ice tray.

“You’re right, they’re the worst. Who the hell likes sitting around doing nothing?” Yuri said as he picked at his nails. He was tempted to sink further down into the couch to rest his head on the armrest, but he figured having his legs dangle off the couch wouldn’t be comfortable.

“You should learn to have some down-time,” Otabek said, walking over and setting the ice bag over Yuri’s ankle. “Want any pain pills?”

Yuri shrugged. “Not really. You can go now. Just hand me my TV remote or something.” He gestured to the coffee table.

“I don’t have anything else going on. Besides, who’s gonna make you food?” Otabek plopped himself on the floor in front of the couch, grabbing the TV remote and turning the TV on. He flipped through some channels, stopping on something that wasn’t a commercial.

“I can have something delivered,” Yuri said.

“And who’s gonna answer the door?” Otabek looked over his shoulder up at Yuri.

“I can hop over.”

“Sure you can. But what if you fall while you’re carrying the food back?” Otabek had to keep himself from smiling. He was having fun messing with Yuri.

“I won’t,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t fall.”

“You fell at the rink today. We all saw it happen,” he teased, no longer able to keep his mouth from curving into a grin.

Yuri crossed his arms and frowned, painfully aware that he was blushing.

“It’s not my fault I’m forgetting how long my legs are,” Yuri huffed, swatting at Otabek’s head.

Otabek leaned back, resting his head against Yuri’s arm and holding the remote up to him. Yuri let out a short grunt as he pushed the remote down with a finger, rejecting the offer. He turned and moved his arm from under Otabek’s head, his hand quickly scooping Otabek’s chin up to angle his head back. Yuri leaned in and gave Otabek a quick peck on the lips. They both looked at each other for a few seconds before Otabek brought his hands up to Yuri’s hair, a hand snaking around to the back of his neck and pulling him back down for a longer kiss.

“This angle’s uncomfortable. Come up here,” Yuri said.

“I’m not making out with you while your ankle’s all swollen.” Otabek pushed at Yuri’s cheek, leaning forward as he looked at the TV.

If Yuri hadn’t learned to read Otabek’s body language, he’d be offended. But Otabek seemed cautious – almost shy, like he didn’t want to be a nuisance.

“Well, if you’re not gonna distract me, why don’t you go find me some Advil or something?” Yuri said, already looking ready to mope.

Otabek turned back to glance at him.

“Is that what you really—”

“No, of course it isn’t what I actually want, Beka,” Yuri said. “Get on the couch with me.”

Pink spread across Otabek’s cheeks, and Yuri felt his heart skip a beat.

“I-I’ll get you something for the pain,” Otabek said, getting up.

“Otya,” Yuri whined. He drew out the vowels, trying to sound pitiful, grabbing Otabek’s arm.

“Don’t call me that,” Otabek muttered, hiding his flustered face as he pushed his hair back, tugging his arm away. He walked back to Yuri’s bathroom to find pain relievers. Yuri sunk back against the couch.

When Otabek came back, he tossed the pill bottle at Yuri, who made a lazy effort at catching it.

“Are you sure you feel up to me being on the couch with you?” Otabek asked as he filled a cup with water for Yuri at the kitchen sink. He came over with it, holding it out to Yuri, who was already dropping two pills into his mouth.

“Sure,” he said around the pills as he took the cup. He gulped them down with a large swig.

Otabek sighed, taking his shoes off. He picked up Yuri’s hoodie and pulled it on, pushing the sleeves up. It was a tad oversized on him.

“How the hell am I gonna get on the couch, you’re over all of it.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and grabbed Otabek around his waist, tugging him over onto the couch. Otabek practically fell onto Yuri.

“This is stupid,” he mumbled.

“Quit moving around. My god, you’re worse than Potya,” Yuri said. “Just straddle me, for fuck’s sake, Beka. That’s what you usually do. Me having a bad ankle doesn’t change that.”

Otabek rolled his eyes and shifted so he was straddling Yuri.

“That’s better,” Yuri said, pulling Otabek down for a kiss.

“Sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” Otabek asked between kisses, his hands keeping him propped up on either side of Yuri.

Yuri bit Otabek’s lip and then pulled away.

“I dunno, my bad ankle might get in the way of that,” he teased, his hand slipping into the back pocket of Otabek’s joggers, cupping his ass.

“Yurka, that was a serious question,” Otabek grabbed Yuri’s wrist, moving his hand back to his lower back.

“Oh. Uh, sure. Yeah. If Potya doesn’t let you sleep in my bed with me, you can have the couch.” Yuri pulled Otabek down against his chest, kissing his neck.

“Maybe rest days wouldn’t be so bad if you came over,” Yuri said.

Otabek kissed along Yuri’s jawline.

“Don’t push your luck, Yura,” Otabek said, relaxing against Yuri. Yuri got his arms around Otabek and let out a contented sigh against Otabek’s dark hair.

“Too much to ask, I guess.”


End file.
